


walking down memory lane

by Khadame



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Existential Crisis, M/M, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, Post-Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal, graha losing it, i dont know how to describe this without spoilering everyone, that one scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26163151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khadame/pseuds/Khadame
Summary: The G'raha of then did not know it would be a promise not kept for hundreds of years when he accepted readily, a grin on his face as he thought of all the possibilities that could never come true.5.3 Spoilers.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	walking down memory lane

**Author's Note:**

> if i dont post now i will go mental. hello and welcome to graha tias 7k word mental breakdown. strap in and enjoy the ride.
> 
> (sorry in advance but i used my catboy for this. avanis his name.)

As suddenly as he had fallen asleep, G'raha Tia had woken up to nothing.

There was no dramatic flickering of the eyelids to a group of people excited to see the guardian who had kept silent vigil over the Tower, no speech he had prepared so meticulously - in truth, he was wondering if he had been stabbed through the heart and killed instantly when his eyes opened to the void. It was strange to feel his body as light as a feather when it felt heavy as he had fallen into deep slumber on Xande’s Throne.

He leaned on his palms, tested the texture underneath; it felt like a pool of water, dirt and a soft whisper all at once, yet his right hand came back clean when he lifted it to check. A sudden feeling of unease washed over him as he stared down his arm - it was as if something was missing, like the flesh and bone was unnatural when it should not be. He tore his gaze away before he got caught in the trance of his thoughts, and looked around him.

There was naught but emptiness, a completely sunless sky hanging over a space devoid of light. There were no landmarks in sight, nowhere to orient himself in the pitch darkness but his body. G’raha steadied himself onto his feet, but even from that vantage point there was no place to go that he could see.

He hadn’t imagined the lifestream would be so lonely.

And it wasn’t - this was silly. Had he died, he would not be standing here, much less be aware of himself. The situation was nonetheless strange; there were no reports of the Crystal Tower encouraging hallucinations or strange dreams as elaborate as these. G’raha had dreamt: dreams of simpler things, of companionship and of nights spent at the lake, but he hadn’t moved of his own accord. And...

“Anyone there?”, he yelled as loud as he could.

...he could talk, but, predictably, there was no answer.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed since he had closed the doors to the Tower - the images of leaving NOAH, their grief-stricken faces and the promises he had given behind were still fresh on his mind. His heart seized at the memories, a raw wound, but this was not the time to dwell on the past when there was a much more urgent issue coming up.

All of the sudden, it didn't feel like he was alone.

In the distance, a figure appeared. Clad in red, white, black. A crystal blue that broke through even the darkness in it's ethereal glow. 

He blinked, and in an instant the selfsame figure appeared beside him; and when it turned it’s head to smile at him, G’raha nearly screamed - for the face it had was a reflection of his own, half-hidden underneath a cowl but the bright red eyes and structure unmistakably the same. Crystal streaking across its cheek and neck, shining vibrantly. It laughed, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and then spoke in _his_ voice.

“Good morning, G’raha Tia. I believe a few explanations are in order.”

* * *

  
  
Wrapping his head around the entire situation proved to be much too hard for his still-reeling mind and he had sunk to the floor to bury his hands in his hair. His elbows were on his knees while he processed the implications of the fantastical story the person who called himself the Exarch told - G’raha, too, the same and yet different. He was supposed to believe that he had saved the world, thrice even, after he had woken up to a world ruined by the calamity. He had traveled space and time to summon the Warrior of Light, _Avani,_ to another world so he may bring back night to its citizens. He had adopted a Viera child, he had raised a city, and he had died as his soul left his body to become one with the Crystal Tower.

He insisted that he truly was his older self, but G’raha had his doubts that he could ever become someone like this - a true hero by all accounts, a legend loved by his people. He had chased recognition, that much was true, but it was unfathomable to him that he would ever become more than the keeper of the Crystal Tower, a historian bearing Allagan blood and perhaps waking up centuries later to aid true heroes in their quests to bring forth a brighter future with his knowledge. To a better world.

There was a lump in his throat. Were this true, he never would have woken up to a better world after all.

“Why are you here?”, he asked, eventually, his voice a bit weak. “Have you not died?”

“Not quite. I had my memories and my soul stored inside a crystal bearing my blood, and asked Avani for one last favour.” The Exarch chuckled, but it sounded more sad than amused. “A selfish one, I admit. He must have gotten my meaning even when I was too weak to say so. At this moment, he is inside the Crystal Tower and has given me a chance to speak with you.”

He folded his hands in front of him and solemnly looked out to the expanse of nothing. "I want you to hear out my offer - and know that I expect nothing from you except for you to follow what your heart truly wants.”

“‘Tis an offer for our souls to merge and for us to become one being.”

G’raha stared incredulously. 

“I fully understand that my request may seem like a terrible joke to you, but I am quite serious.” The Exarch looked back down to his counterpart, smiling serenely, and pulled off his cowl. His red hair was streaked with white, and, freed from the shadows, his eyes reflected the wisdom of a hundred more years. “Our souls are fundamentally the same, after all. To me, all that separates us is time. Unlike I, however, you have not yet had the chance to think of the terms of this arrangement.”

“I sense discord within yourself, as I expected. Rest assured there is no way for me to force you to do anything. If you reject me, you will wake up if you wish to, and I will fade away. Even if you were to sleep, you would not wake up to the future I had.” He was back to gazing into the distance, to a place only he could see. “All I ask of you is time to consider.”

Silence followed, both of them quietly considering their thoughts. G’raha didn’t know what to do with himself. The initial disbelief still sat, stark and heavy, and he couldn’t help but ask for one thing, as silly as he thought it to be afterwards:

“Prove to me that you are me.”

There was no mocking laughter at his request; instead, the Exarch’s left hand, the one consumed by crystal and still gleaming, reached out to him. G’raha took it, wordlessly, and felt the quiet melancholy of a man walking down memory lane until his vision turned to a scene from months ago, coated in nostalgia and faded at the edges.

  
  


* * *

  
  


A shared memory from a long time ago. 

  
  


* * *

One day, when the daily trek back to Revenant's Toll and a solid bed became too exhausting, the Warrior of Light's legs collapsed underneath him not moments after giving tired goodbyes. He was forced to stay in place until Rammbroes decided he may leave (no protests given and G'raha Tia suddenly became very aware of his own attitude before he smothered the thought). 

Resources were a bit sparse, so it was decided unanimously that the two scholars would share a tent, at least for a day or two. G'raha kept up the same displeased grimace the entire day, already expecting needy whines that would keep him distracted and tired. One of the researchers joked about him being as sour as an orange harvested too early, and in response he decided he would look as if he had bitten into a lemon instead.

Truth be told, he had barely spoken to the Warrior of Light personally ever since he had given the other man the aethersand he needed. The current and still on-going exploration of the Labyrinth left them with no real reason to interact as G'raha was barred from fighting and his current studies about Allagan artifacts would only help as far as knowing which ones would make a good shield against a pack of angry succubi after his initial briefing. From what he had seen of the Warrior, he didn't seem to be loud and boisterous, the type that had a worn axe in hand and smashed the nearest table when their intelligence was questioned, nor one of the more cocky adventurers with their daggers spinning to impress the ladies while said ladies fished the coin out of their pockets like they were shallow wishing wells.

No, there was quiet intelligence in the eyes of the Keeper, a piercing look that faltered when one stared back. His conversations with his fellow adventurers and the other NOAH members were no shouting matches, and from what he had seen, the Warrior barely talked himself. Still, G'raha couldn't help but be annoyed - and refused to admit it was not the person that irked him; but the ease at which every so readily trusted him to jump into any dangerous situation, with nothing more than a fairy and a book worn at the edges. 

That it wasn't him exploring the Labyrinth at the side of his trusted companions. How easy it all came to him, being a hero.

When G'raha opened the flap to his tent late at night after clearing his thoughts with a stroll, the other Miqo'te was sleeping soundly. Some of the tomestones and Allagan scriptures were shoved out of the way as politely as possible to make space for a place to curl up. The fairy remained summoned, having taken her place next to her scholar's face and using his black, ruffled hair as a makeshift pillow. The Seeker almost snorted at the sight, so at odds with the Warrior of Light from tavern's tales this man was. How delightfully amusing the gods must imagine themselves to be to make someone smaller than himself the person who had saved the world.

A sigh, an irritated swish of the tail. The night was still young and the moon would be shining bright. Perhaps he could take his research to the lake instead. And-  
  
  


* * *

It all faded away, made room for the next.

Preserved by both, once as a lifeline of hope and once as the knowledge that the world would be in good hands while he slept.

* * *

  
“Are you alright?” 

A voice rang out in the dark, the one it belonged to only illuminated by the soft glow of the fairy that followed him. Bewildered, G’raha looked up from the dirt he got planted face-first in when he was about to get mauled by a hippogryph, startling when he heard the sound of a book slapping shut and heaving himself up when he realised how he looked. 

“Quite alright”, he grumbled under his breath, “you are faring better already, then?” Of course the great hero wouldn’t be brought low by a measly fainting spell, and could dispatch monsters with ease. The mud was sticking to his clothes, and he felt disgusting.

“Recovering, yes…” The Warrior of Light answered, and the tone of his voice betrayed that it wasn’t the end of it. G’raha dreaded the inevitable questions. “What brings you here this late at night?” 

“I could ask you the same when you are supposed to be resting.” 

“I was… worried, actually.”

It was the Seeker’s turn to look bewildered, again. There was no chance to reply before the other continued, seemingly a bit embarrassed: “It is late, you see. Mor Dhona is a bit dangerous at night, with all these monsters roaming around- I, ah, should know.” He shook his head. “I apologise. You probably wished to be left alone.” 

“No, it is-”, G’raha tried finding the right words, "-fine. I thank you. Had you not come, I might really have gotten injured." 

"I'm glad, then." The corners of his mouth raised, but it wasn't quite a smile. His fairy whirred around to look for any injuries regardless. 

…

Silence. 

The Warrior crossed his arms and looked to the ground not unlike a kicked kitten, and G'raha Tia was starting to feel like a bit of a bastard. 

"Seeing as the two of us are awake, what do you say to a stroll around the area? We have not had much chance to talk even though we are both members of NOAH, after all", he offered, as casually as he could, and felt a bit vindicated when the not-quite-a-smile from before turned to a more genuine one. Perhaps he could convince him to let him see just a tiny bit of the Labyrinth and, perhaps…

The Keeper seemed happy to and G'raha nodded solemnly. "Lead the way, then, Warrior of Light!" 

"I... I prefer Avani, if you don't mind." The fairy settled back on his shoulders, satisfied with her work, and he fiddled with the hem of his sleeves as if the request was outlandish.

"'Tis no problem. You can call me-"

* * *

_G’raha Tia._

The memory faded and the answer to the question echoed in their minds. What the Exarch had told him was true, then, even if he had doubted from the very start that someone could spin a tale this elaborate without having lived through it himself. They could feel the beats of their souls - there was no malice in his words. There was no way to deny the truth laid before him.

 _Time to consider._ It was the least he could give.

"What do you think?", the Exarch prompted. G'raha turned his head, watched their still-intertwined hands. The crystal that he held was cool to the touch, but thrummed with life.

"I believe you, truly, but…” He trailed off, unsure.

“Worry not. You need not feel pressured. It was only after a long time and a bit of help that I came to a conclusion, myself.” 

“Help?”

The older self smiled back at the younger. “Is the answer not obvious to you?”

It was. He looked into the Exarch’s reflected red eyes regardless. “Show me.” _When you realised._

* * *

The memory of an evening in the Crystal Tower.

* * *

"Sometimes I feel like I'm upsetting you."

It came so out of left field that the Exarch startled and nearly dropped his pen. He had been working on a new theory regarding the scion's safe return when Avani had more or less made himself home in the Ocular with no warning, waving with his book and claiming that, if he could not get the Seeker to seek the sun, he could at least offer him some company. He had been quiet - up until then.

"Whatever are you talking about? You could never, my friend."

"It's just…", he trailed off, sighing. "Everytime I call you G'raha, you just- you did it again!" An accusatory finger was pointed right at the Exarch, and he was even more bewildered. 

"Did what?" 

"You are flinching everytime I do. I can see it."

"Ah… my apologies. I will do my best not to."

Avani shook his head and crossed his arms. "Don't be silly. That's not the point. If you are uncomfortable with me calling you that, I won't."

The other man didn't quite know what to reply without telling a lie some way or the other - and gods forbid he would when he promised on his life he would never tell one ever again. It was a question he had scarcely considered, even avoided, out of fear for the answer; being hit by it so suddenly, he struggled to bring forth any words. 

Whether he still was G'raha Tia after all these years.

His train of thought and dawning existential crisis was interrupted by an offer: "How about going back to calling you the Exarch? Or as Lyna does - my Lord, was it?" The Keeper grinned, a bright smile against a dark complexion. 

"I appreciate the suggestions, but I think we can find a better solution." It was almost deeply disturbing imagining 'my Lord' coming out from both Lyna and someone who might make him blush down to his neck if he said it one more time. Already a bit too flustered, he tried to collect his thoughts - perhaps simply being honest would go a longer than fumbling around like a blind phooka.

"Truth be told, I do not know myself. I hid my identity for so long, I feel like I am using someone else's name. But 'tis no matter, really - I have already said the sound was unfamiliar, perhaps… perhaps I just need to get used to it once more."

"You don't sound very convinced."

He was not and didn't know how to respond to the truth.

The heavy silence that followed was unbearable; the Exarch nervously rubbed the side of his arm under the table, his ears almost flat against his skull. His work was long forgotten. The ink was starting to dry.

An agonising minute later, he heard the sound of a chair scraping against the crystal floor momentarily and before he could react, Avani had taken a seat right in front of his desk, eyes determined and focused directly into the Seeker's own.

"Do you mind if I tell you a small story?"

 _Never._ "Please, go ahead."

"Well then." A deep inhale.

"Back when I was in Ishgard, I remember the time after the scions had- disappeared in Ul'dah. I only had Alphinaud and Tataru with me at the time, and Haurchefant, bless his soul, with House Fortemps. I came there and I was surrounded by people who barely knew who I was. It was all talk of the Warrior of Light, defender of Eorzea, slayer of the Ultima weapon."

"I recall some people being in great disbelief I was not the giant the bards had sold me as, and one particular fellow was rude enough about it that I kicked him in his kneecaps-", there was a light chuckle from the storyteller, "-and knee protectors shot up in sales from that day forward to protect against the 'wrath of the Warrior of Light'. I had the fellow who specialised in them come up to me personally and thank me for making him a wealthy man."

The way Avani recounted the memory with such a fond smile on his face nearly made the Exarch regret that he was not awake to spend these moments with him. 

He could have kicked a few knees himself.

"But I'm getting sidetracked, I apologise. After we rescued the sultana, when I could finally return home, there was nothing but talk of the Warrior of Light once again. And when Nanamo invited me for a cup of tea, she was absolutely shocked when I had started crying in the middle of the street and couldn't articulate why." 

Avani's face slowly grimaced into a frown as he continued. "Raubahn thought she had perhaps done something to offend me and tried - well, he _interrogated_ me, really. I told him I simply needed some time off and the loss of the scions was getting to me too much. It played a role, but that wasn't the entire truth."

"When Nanamo called me Warrior of Light, someone I considered a friend, I couldn't take it. It felt like I was not a person anymore. The Warrior of Light was a title that was given to me, but it was so at odds with who I was I wondered if Avani ever was. Mayhaps Nanamo had only done it to be polite, yet my heart broke all the same."

The Exarch stayed quiet throughout. Nothing he could offer in condolences could ease the memory of a heartbreak. He knew well.

"I told them I would only need a few days of quiet to recover, at least until I needed to return to Ishgard and then went to my parents' farm in La Noscea. My family welcomed me with open arms, but the first thing my mother did was take me aside, hand me a plate of Herring Pie, and ask me what was wrong. I had apparently walked into the room like someone had just died." Finally, the frown he wore turned into a small smile.

"I told her everything that happened and she wrung me out like a towel until the last detail. And then, she took my hands into her own, told me to lean down and said…"

"My dear, no matter how much you think you've changed, you will always be the boy we found and cherished for all these years. No imposter in the world could convince me that he is you, and you can't do the opposite. You still have your head buried in books and your heart in the right place, and that's why you are Avani, and not me, or your sister, or the thrice-damned perfect incarnation of a Warrior of Light for all I care. And you always will be Avani, until the moment you come up to me and tell me you don't want to be anymore."

There was quiet for a few seconds after he finished talking, gaze cast downwards as they silently contemplated the words spoken. The Exarch himself had only a dawning suspicion what this was about when the Keeper took him by surprise; his breath stuttered when he felt hands and fingers slot against his own, skin against skin and cold crystal against warmth. He forced his eyes to stay up, staring directly at the one's across him which had left the table and were focused on him so intensely he felt he might faint.

"The words I got that day, I want to give to you. No matter how much _you_ think you changed, you will always and still be the eccentric Miqo'te historian, the one that disappeared before me and came back to save the world. Had it not been for the extraordinary circumstances, I never would have doubted it was you beneath that robe the moment I heard your voice." He squeezed his living hand, and he squeezed back, ever so slightly. If only to memorise the touch and to stop the tears welling in his ruby eyes.

"Rambling on about the things you are passionate about and the pout you still kept. And that's why to me, you're not only the Crystal Exarch, but also G'raha Tia… and, if you'll allow me, you can be Raha, too." Avani's face broke out into a genuine smile, and G'raha felt like he was looking at the sun even with crystal surrounding them.

"My dearest friend from all these years ago, and now-" 

* * *

"-and now still."

The Crystal Exarch whispered along as it all faded away. There were tears streaming down his face in earnest now, just as they had after he had been called Raha for the first time in a century. He immediately stifled them in the sleeves of his robe, rubbing the back of his hands against his eyes while his shoulders shook in silence.

And G'raha felt grief so devastating, love so pure and despair so potent in one memory that his chest clammed up. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of regret that was not entirely his own.

The Exarch was G’raha Tia, but he wasn’t sure if G’raha Tia could ever live up to be the Exarch. The man who saved worlds. Who loved. Who lost. 

"My apologies...", the Exarch sighed, eventually. His voice cracked. "I wish not to influence your decision with my own feelings. ‘Tis merely a side effect of our meeting.” 

“No”, G’raha said, “perhaps it’s for the best.” Despite his doubts, it was hard not to see traces of himself, dulled over a hundred years. And that was what was asked of him - to consider, to see what made him the person he was. If the Exarch saw himself as G’raha Tia, the same could be said in reverse, could it not?

His immediate thoughts were more depressing than he liked. He felt inadequate.

Instead of admitting to all of it, he refused to relent. "Show me more.”

* * *

The memory of a summer's day.

* * *

"That is… an impressive stack of letters. Are these for you?" 

"Not all of them." Avani dropped three huge baskets filled to the brim with letters and snatched a particular one to skim the address of before he showed it to G'raha. "At least half of them are for you. Most likely more."

_To the Crystal Exarch_

Hesitantly, he took it out of the other's hands and opened it as carefully as he could without damaging the carefully designed envelope. On the other side of the makeshift picnic blanket they set up in a quiet corner of Lakeland, the Keeper seemed excited for him to read it.

_To the Crystal Exarch,_

_We hope this letter reaches your lordship. The Warrior of Darkness told us that where you hail from, there is a tradition of expressing your appreciation for the people you admire and the people you love on one particular day. Our family will use this day to thank you with our entire being for protecting us and the Crystarium from harm for all these years. We will never forget what you have done for us in our greatest time of need. Night may have returned, but the fight is not yet over. For you, we will keep on fighting._

_P.S. A message from our oldest: When the time comes, perhaps the Exarch should consider giving a letter to his loved one as well!_

"It was your idea, then." He folded the piece of paper back into its envelope and quickly slipped it out of sight before Avani got the idea of reading it. Despite the last sentence making his face burn ( _oh dear Azemya, how many people knew?),_ he was filled with quiet joy at the encouraging words within. 

"I liked Valentione's Day even back on the Source, so why not here? I used to give out sweet treats all the time", the other explained, eyes fixed on a letter of his own before they went back up with an amused smile. "Even if it’s a couple of moons too late and there's no sweets involved. Quite the time to test my reading skills, too. Good choice, I take it?"

"Indeed. Though I am going to assume not all of them are so innocent if you are bringing the entire spirit of Valentione's here." 

"Absolutely not. That's the fun of it." 

Avani rolled out of the blanket onto the grass and held his letter against the sunlight, squinting as he slowly deciphered the words. " _Oh Warrior of Darkness, I must finally confess my feelings to you… Your dark, messy hair, those mysterious eyes, your blade of darkness as I imagine it thrusting-",_ he snorted, "-I am not finishing this sentence."

It did not matter, because G'raha already finished it in his head. He grabbed another one from the stack before he embarrassed himself. "I am certainly looking forward to mine. Perhaps I will hang the best ones near the kitchen.”

"You should have told me earlier. People would have put more effort into their… oh Menphina, fit what where?"

The red-haired Miqo'te stifled a laugh behind his hand, opened his own letter, and laughed harder. "Appreciation for my Crystal Tower it is, then." 

Together, they went through stack after stack of silly and heart-warming letters, and each of them was still yet another outpour of love for their saviours even with questionable word choices - G’raha couldn’t help but appreciate every single one of them regardless, knowing that everything he read were words of the people they had saved and given a better life; eventually, they too would be free of the sin eaters and the memories of a haunted past. Small, careful steps.

And eventually, the Warrior of Light, his companions and the Crystal Exarch would be at duty’s end, too, able to lay down their weapons and gaze at a clear night sky with the knowledge that the people under it were safe forevermore.

If that future ever came, he wondered if he could selfishly ask to be part of it.

* * *

The last words echoed in the expanse of their minds.

A man loved by his people. 

G'raha thought back to the Sons of Saint Coinach and NOAH; of nights spent jovially by the campfire after Avani and him got dragged to the gatherings by their ears. Even while drunkenly attempting to sing along to some seaman's hymn, trading drinks and stories with his fellow Sharlayan scholars, he always felt a little out of place amidst the more down-to-earth folk. A certain born awkwardness that clung to him no matter how hard he tried to shake it off with faux confidence.

When had he become so self-aware? When had he changed?

He looked to the Exarch for answers. The crystal on his cheek cracked and grew as he spoke.

“Looking at these moments now, I wonder if I was a fool for thinking we ever changed much at all.”

The younger self looked sceptical. “You are no fool. Have you not said yourself that time has separated us?”

“There was a reason ‘twas not an insurmountable wall, aside from what Avani had told me. Back then, when we spoke…” The space around him rippled in imitation of shallow waters as he took a step forward, then another. The crystal was starting to snake up his feet. G’raha could only watch and follow towards an unknown destination. “I, too, remembered the time we sat together at the campsite in Mor Dhona”, he said, and chuckled at the other man’s downward flick of the ears. “And forgive me for invading your privacy. Not much else could be done to have us meet.”

The suppressed sorrow and hidden affections threatening to burst free that still weighed in G’raha’s chest made him think that the exchange was more unfair to the Exarch than the other way around. Quiet understanding rolled off him in waves, and the man clad in robes responded in kind before he continued. “The night of the day Avani and his group defeated Phlegethon, when we had excused ourselves for a moment…"

* * *

The memory of a soft glow. Flames in the dark.

* * *

G'raha peeked through a small slit in his tent, staring much more intensely than he thought he was at the group far off in front of him.

He had cited feeling unwell as an excuse to slither away, back into his haven of books and tomestones where he was more comfortable than in the middle of a small crowd. They let out boisterous laughter at some story or another from Rammbroes, hollered and added their own jokes; even Avani was smiling along, taking a tentative sip of his ale before he set it down with a decidedly less pleased expression. 

It took G'raha by surprise that the Keeper even bothered - in the week since their first real talk the two of them had gotten along rather quickly, trading their own tales of terrible Sharlayan professors and discussing the current progress of the Labyrinth expedition (the stories of ancient heroes come to life never ceased to amaze G’raha, who thought that the closest he had ever been to a real legend was shaking Avani’s hand). They were more alike than he had realised with their predisposition to burying their noses in books and being rather bad around crowds. It gave him a small bit of satisfaction knowing that the Warrior of Light was just as averse to people as he was, that he wasn't entirely alone in watching from afar while trying to focus on a book he found was gibberish at that moment.

Yet that was what separates a hero and a historian; one tried something new while the other stayed where he belonged.

With his head in the palm of his hand, G'raha watched one of the adventurers throw an arm over Avani's shoulder, and the awkward, but still bright smile that followed. There was a tight feeling in his chest, constricting and slightly painful, and he could not ignore the thought that followed; bugging and crawling around until he felt a headache come up. He closed his eyes, sighed and rolled on his back. 

_I wish-_

* * *

G'raha Tia felt two crystal hands grab his own, lips form words he could not hear, crystal underneath his feet. The echo of the Exarch, fading away. The campfire from that night, replaced by a longing gaze into the distance.  
  
  


* * *

The Exarch stood still with a smile frozen on his face as he bid the Scions farewell. They all departed with their own goodbyes, chatting amongst themselves with laughter and genuine hope, as if it was just now that they had realised they survived long enough to share an ale at the Wandering Stairs. He had been invited, of course, and he had politely declined on account of his injuries from the final confrontation with Emet-Selch not having healed yet. Despite Avani being a more than competent healer, he had refused to let anyone into the Crystal Tower to attend to the wound that marred his back; it was a raw and ugly thing, oozing wounded aether, crystalline shards and blood from what little skin still remained. He still felt the dull ache that went through his entire body whenever he took a step, but he also felt like a fool for pretending it mattered enough to not spend an evening with a friend.

The knowledge of what he had done to the Scions with his actions was a second wound to grace the first - worse, perhaps, for heartbreak sat much deeper than any gunshot could. The full weight of his guilt had not hit him before, distracted as he was by the imminent threat of the Lightwardens and ending his duty in his death. The Exarch turned into a coward when he summoned Thancred five years ago and he had refused to face it ever since. The play was up, the hood was gone, but it mattered little in the grand scheme of it all. Y'shtola's barely concealed disdain came to mind, Urianger's forced secrecy, the other's guarded steps around him, treating him like a piece of delicate crystal that shattered in the wind. Forgiveness was hard-earned, and while he could beg on his knees for Avani to consider him a friend once more, he feared he had lost his chance with the Scions a long time ago. 

One last look at their figures with their backs turned away before he turned his own, making the climb up the stairs with an exhaustion he had never noticed so strongly before. And yet, the Exarch longed for companionship with the ferocity of a hundred long-gone years hidden behind subdued words and a cloaked face; and he knew better than to pursue it. He closed his eyes, and even then, he wished.

_I wish-_

* * *

Two memories merged as one in G'raha’s mind. It felt like they belonged to him, like home, and the heartache was so familiar even if it was not yet his own. The empty void turned into a night sky, the pitch-black ground turned to crystal and dirt.

_I wish I could be there, too._

And he knew, even with the Exarch not there to guide him anymore, that he was so close to realising what his decision would be. There was one last piece missing in the puzzle. One last thing he had nearly forgotten, even with everything reminding him.

The star which had charted his course ever since he woke, and would for the rest of his life. The memories which rang clear in his mind even through the fog that began to cloud it as he felt his strength leave him.

Who was it that offered him a hand then and a century later? He still remembered kind words that gave him a place to belong in those moments, putting his heart to rest when he had thought it impossible. 

G'raha closed his eyes, leaden and weary as they were, and knew what he had to do.

The world around him collapsed and made room for one last memory.

* * *

The day before they ventured into the space where Nero, Unei and Doga were dragged into, everyone was on edge. The usual campfire chatter had been completely silent these past moons and Avani's face took on increasingly pale shades of grey as time passed. Stress, it was suspected by a few others, and even if he denied it, there was more than adequate reason to be. The Warrior of Light was strong, this much was true, but not infallible; the Cloud of Darkness was a foe from another dimension, hellbent on destroying Hydaelyn and more than adequate means to do so. Powerful as he and the other adventurers were, they may not be powerful enough when failure was not an option.

Amidst this chaos, G'raha had his own soul-searching to do. His eye was steadily getting worse, and a spectre of the excruciating pain he got during an earlier episode lingered even then. It was all a mess - knowledge he could not remember ever having bubbling up suddenly and with no explanation, the feeling that he was missing something getting stronger by the hour. He had already asked Avani to accompany him on his fight in the World of Darkness short of begging on his hands and knees to have a chance at finding the answers he sought, and thankfully, the other had agreed, even if it was decidedly reluctant. The Keeper had proposed an 'exchange of sorts', and all he asked him to do was to come to Silvertear Lake at night, away from prying ears.

G'raha stood, and watched as the Exarch and the Avani of their memories sat at the shore surrounded by the stars and glittering water. The crystal was creeping up his hair now, grounding the white-streaked strands that otherwise fluttered in the wind - however much time he had left, it didn't seem like it would be much longer. It felt wrong to interrupt when the Exarch's bitter heartache was replaced by such calming serenity.

It played out just as it had all this time ago.

"When all of this is over", Avani began, his voice a silvery resonance in their dreamscape, "I would ask a favour of you." There was no response now, but their minds supplied - G'raha Tia's slow turn of the head, the starlight he saw in golden eyes, and the quiet 'yes?' he breathed back.

"I'm being a bit presumptuous, perhaps…" He had drawn his knees into his chest, arms hugged around them. "But let's go somewhere afterwards. Somewhere… not so deadly. An adventure of our own." A small smile, tired but relaxed all the same, for the first time in so long. "I think I owe you one, as an apology at the very least. For robbing you of half your tent." 

They remembered laughing. The G'raha of then did not know it would be a promise not kept for hundreds of years when he accepted readily, a grin on his face as he thought of all the possibilities that could never come true.

The G'raha of now finally stepped next to the Exarch as the echo of the memory stood still. There was silence between them; only the scrunching of sand underneath his feet and water gently lapping at crystal sounded through. Avani's mirage was motionless, happiness preserved on his face.

And when G'raha looked upon his other self, he was crying. The tears before it would all be over at last. A thousand dreams dissipated in the winds.

Yet the Exarch's voice was calm, despite it all. "My time here will soon end", he said, "and I will disappear. Have you come to a decision, then?"

"Yes." The insecurity from earlier was gone, replaced by conviction in every fibre of his being. The answer was obvious now. It had been from the start.

"I see." He stood up from where he sat, legs shaking with the weight of his own soul, and turned to face himself. The crystal continued to creep up his other cheek, making its final ascend. "I would ask of you to deliver a message to Avani, when the time comes." 

And in his being there echoed nothing but a love so pure it transcended worlds - the desire to stand by Avani's side, the pain of knowing he had died in another time, the elation he felt knowing he could finally meet him again. Grief as he believed he was at memory's end, to never see him ever again. But the fondness that had threatened to drown G'raha was never fully the Exarch's - it was both that loved him so fiercely, even if one of them had not understood yet. They were both G'raha Tia, and even with a hundred years apart, nothing had changed.

He would return. He would tell him he loved him, on the Source and on the First. He would kiss him like he wanted to under the cover of the night in Mor Dhona, to seal the promise they had made under the stars.

So G'raha could only laugh in response, earning him the most confused look he had seen in his entire life. It felt like all doubts had cleared, and he was looking at a clear blue sky for the first time in his life. "What a fool you are", he answered, "to think that you would not deliver this message yourself."

And just as the memory faded, red eyes widened and crystal shattered, it was at last that their duty would come to an end.

The world fell into pieces, rebuilt again. Two souls merged into one and left behind an image of G'raha Tia on that selfsame shore forevermore, with all of his hopes and dreams contained in a moment frozen in time.

It would be alright now, they thought, to have new ones.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

When Avani had returned a day later to Revenant's Toll, eyes still red and weepy from crying an extraordinary amount over G'raha (who seemed rather happy being carried in his arms), it was Tataru who immediately demanded the full story from the Scions and started a betting ring not one minute after Y'shtola divulged every single secret glance she had seen.

And it was Krile that ended up winning, of course, and got to enjoy her hard-earned gil on a vacation to Costa Del Sol. The rest of the group had to groan through seeing the Warrior of Light and the newest member of the Scions draped all over each other while not realising they looked like they came fresh off their Eternal Bond despite not even being a couple. It was obnoxious, or so Alisaie repeated as her brother comforted her over a chance she never really had.

Yet there were no two people on Hydaelyn that were more deserving of a rest than those two, and everyone decided that it was their turn to suffer for the greater good for once.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading. first thing ive ever posted in my entire life so i hope you actually did enjoy the ride.
> 
> im avani sinani on omega if you want to check my character out. or not.


End file.
